His Hatred
by ShellQueensie
Summary: After becoming marrieds, Chucky and Andy decide to move back into the cabin in the middle of the woods. Within a few weeks to months, things start to get tense when Andy suspects something dangerous from Chucky's strange behavior.
1. Welcome Home

3:08 pm

It started once they were back in that cabin. They were farther away from the others, yes, but that didn't mean they couldn't connect to them. It was an emotional day weirdly enough. They were moving long ways away, but a smaller creature, who stuck behind the taller man the entire time of goodbyes and farewells, thought the sentiment parade was quite unnecessary. But of course, the other man thought otherwise. He would miss Kristen and everyone else they had to leave at Lakeshore. It was too much for the doll to handle when he was being smooched up with sappy valedictions and kisses. He wasn't huge on that and the others did know, they just wanted to have their fun with him before the two had gone far away.

They didn't need a moving truck. They didn't have a lot of things packed. There already was furniture with a fridge and other appliances needed for a _regular_ household. They packed their clothes with each new pair of boots they bought the day before moving. Andy brought his laptop for when they couldn't get the computer to work. They also needed service.

Chucky didn't understand why it was in the winter they needed to move. He quarreled at it weeks before their decision. Andy wasn't fond of moving in a better season since he liked the winter. If he had a choice he would move from somewhere irresistible hot to somewhere blazing cold, that was just how it is, and Chucky would have to come no matter what. It was Andy who had control over almost everything, including Chucky. Still, the doll almost refused to get out of the truck once the cold from Andy's door blew onto his nose and cheeks, the heat from the AC of the truck vanishing. Chucky groaned, but because of the wind messing with the twos' ears, Andy mistook it for a whine, so he looked back. "You alright?" Andy picked up the box that was set in between him and Charles. Chucky wasn't impressed he could tell but he wasn't enraged.

"I'm fine, dipshit," Chucky scooted over to Andy's door, making Andy carry him to the ground. He didn't trust his own side, what if there was a giant pile of chilling hard snow waiting for him at the bottom? Andy set him down on the shallowest part of the ground he could find. Chucky tried to help by pushing the boxes to the porch. It helped for a bit, until they had to get to the steps. He wasn't going to stop though, not even if Andy said he could. He could pick up some boxes if light enough, but he still couldn't challenge the icy levels.

Andy finished most of the work and got a fire started for him and the doll. Boxes were on the counter, some already were unfolded and packed into a storage closet for future needs. Chucky didn't want to go to the fire, no matter how much he hated the stiff air surrounding his bare skin. He climbed up on the counter and waited until Andy walked over again.

Andy thought about a lot of things during random times, right now he was wondering if he should make a backyard shed instead of relying on other indoor closest. He would get to that eventually and would write down the idea in his notebook. He realized then that someone was watching him, then he hurried to finish the closest. He slid the box away from him and Chucky once he got to the doll, probably for more space. It was a long ride to the cabin, he hadn't touched Chucky the way he liked, except for the pokey teasing in the truck. Chucky threw his fits and tried to latch onto the man's arm, but the box was in the way, along with his tightly secured seatbelt (Andy was the one who made it tight like that). They also argued over which station they should select. Chucky wanted to hear the weather forecast, but Andy insisted that they should focus more on music. They weren't really listening though when they settled on music, they were just glad there was noise rather than nothing. Chucky could go on and discuss whatever as background emptiness to Andy's ears, but Chucky didn't know what to talk about at the time. Now as he is in the cabin, he could talk about a lot of things. It is a shame that the music made his train of thought slow down from that time.

Andy hugged Chucky around the small man's waist. "You seem tired," Chucky was and did seem like it. The truck was too uncomfortable and the radio was too loud. But, even if he was comfortable and the music was just at the right volume to doze off, he still would be wide awake while staring out into the snowy fields and white clear sky. He never could fall asleep at a time of the day, it wasn't right to his eyes.

Chucky wrapped his ungloved fingers into the man's jacket. "So do you," he replied, nuzzling his pink nose in Andy's shoulder.

They planned then to take a long nap together next to the fire once Andy got the fridge to work. Chucky felt it was okay now to go get himself warm finally. He took his coat off and hung it up, with the help of a long stool, and stayed close to the fire. His gloves and boots were still on.

Chucky got a little closer to the flames, his pink nose and cheeks started to go pale like the rest of his skin. He felt tears in his eyes, tired and carefree tears. He loves to feel heated and now was an exception.

"Done," Andy whispered to himself once the fridge started again. He had put food in there along with a few beers. Chucky liked wine, so as a surprise, Andy brought a bottle of grape flavored champagne with them. He shut the fridge door and ignored the leftover boxes. Those could be tended to once he got the energy to care anymore.

He sat on the couch, watching Chucky enjoy the feeling of long-desired warmth gust onto his face. Andy smiled once Chucky turned around and noticed him. "You should take your boots off," Andy said while unzipping his black jacket. Chucky grunted and walked towards the door, taking them off and placing them orderly. He needed to sort things out like that, or else his psyche would taunt him for being too messy. Andy didn't tease him about his perfectionist habit, he had times where things need to be aligned as well.

Chucky kept his gloves on and rolled them up to cover his fingers. Andy enjoys the cold, but too much of it did bother him. His gloves were off and so was his boots. He could remove his socks, but the short amounts of energy weren't enough for Andy to move again and remove them. Chucky sat next to him on the couch, Andy laid his head back and shut his eyes. He didn't sleep right away, he knew Chucky didn't want to sleep. So, he wrapped a strong arm around his husband and brought him close, making him feel more safe and secure. Chucky relaxed his body into Andy, then drifted off, Andy soon falling behind him.

7:56 pm

They slept longer than expected, but the fire was still going. Andy noticed Chucky was on his lap, locked in the same childish position he held every now and then. Andy tapped Chucky's cheek gently, the doll woke up slowly. "Hmmm?" Chucky sunk his face into Andy's stomach. Andy stroke Chucky's back, his hand's rhythm was lazy. It still made a low roll from under Chucky's throat, just like purring.

"We should unpack our clothes," Andy said as he sat up, carrying Chucky along with him. Chucky said nothing, he didn't make any noise against Andy's words either. He must be really tired is what Andy guessed.

They got up to their bedroom and unpacked. They separated their clothes into different sides of the dresser. Chucky had fewer numbers of pants but a lot of shirts. He made them himself, pants were harder to make he would argue. Andy commented a lot on Chucky's hobby, it did kind of make sense that Chucky would be into something like sewing. Chucky was embarrassed once Andy found out. But Chucky was talented at a lot of things, so it didn't shock Andy the way Chucky expected. He expected the same reaction when he drew a very good image of Nica, just like she requested. He doesn't have that picture anymore. He gave it to her, but he doubts that she still has it.

Andy finished first, then went back downstairs to finish the other boxes he ignored a while ago. They were only cans. Once Chucky was done, he left the room and went to Andy. His stomach hurt and his chest heaved. He was hungry.

He found Andy with no more surrounding boxes. He was completely finished with that, but now he has to deal with a lot more, and Chucky was more than willing to help. "Hungry?" Andy read the ginger's mind. Chucky didn't need to respond, there was already a plate of eggs and pancakes displayed in front of him. It is breakfast for dinner, like what they discussed in the truck.

"T-Thanks," Chucky gasped out. He didn't realize how hard he was breathing. His throat wasn't in pain, but it was his mind that repeated the same heart-thumping motion. It sounded like a warning.

He ignored it and took big bites of his meal. He was finished before he got to his drink.

"What?" Chucky felt the familiar taste poison his lungs. It was very unexpected. He looked up at Andy, who had a bottle of his favorite beer in his hand, gouging it down. It was gonna be one of those nights. Well, it was a way to celebrate a new house and a new lifestyle he guessed. Chucky blushed.

He took a long drink of the wine. He was gonna have more after this glass he knew. He might as well just have the whole bottle right in front of him. Andy knew that as well, so he didn't hesitate to put the bottle in front of Chucky's face. Chucky finished the glass, then got to the bottle, he felt woozy already. Maybe he was still very tired or how his breathing was messing with the wheels of his head.

That bottle of wine wasn't enough, so Andy got Chucky a beer. He wasn't forcing this onto Chucky out of will. If it was gonna happen to Andy, it had to happen to Chucky. That is what they promised a while ago.

Sooner or later they were both laughing and forgetting whatever they thought was important just minutes ago. Chucky's breathing was the same, Andy wasn't speaking or thinking right. A few more bottles in and before the two of them knew it, they were on the couch, lips locked. The rest of the house was dark while the light of the fire let each other see into another's eyes. Chucky's were pleading, his breaths were rapid with lust. Andy's hands were roaming around Chucky's tiny yet stout body. Chucky played with Andy's hair, either tugging or stroking it. They both smelled and tasted like alcohol, and they both felt warm as they dug deeper out of passion. They were there, intertwined with one another, clothes on the ground, moans filling the entire cabin. They stayed like that the entire night, enjoying each other's taste and body.


	2. Getting Comfortable

_After a terrible event that messed with his psyche later in time, he never got to school. He was a child who would put forth the effort, especially even in waking up, so that wasn't the issue. The real issue this time around was the missing presence of his mother, who would enter his room and make him breakfast. Some days she had to straighten his hair to conceal a black eye. His pap wasn't home at the time, so it was another good part of the day. The night was great too. His father comes home in the afternoon, gives his mother disgusting marks on her pretty skin, then leaves again._

 _He did that to his little boy, but it was when school was out when he had all the time to mark his skin purple, blue, or sometimes black. His skin wasn't lovely like his mother's, so he didn't protest about it like he did about his mother. His mom made a big deal about it to him though. It's because she loves him. He loved her too. He still does._

 _She was gone along with his corrupt father, he cried when they left. He was too young to understand but not naive enough to not figure anything out. He was a bright kid. His parents were gone because of a man, another sinister man. This man was like his father. The only thing that separated him from the boy's father was the gun in his hand and his thirst for outcries. Charles, the small boy, wasn't there to see it happen. He was there when the police showed up._

 _He cried the night he figured it all out…_

 _The man who did this to his mama was gonna pay…._

10:32 am

"Chucky!" there was the voice that disturbed his dream.

The small man sprung up with a yell escaping his clogged throat. He needed a few more breathers to process what was happening in this reality. He was awake, that was a fact now. Whatever it was that plagued him before was a dream. More specifically, a flashback.

"Yeah?" He turned his pale and moist face to the human next to him. He saw everything as a blur. He squints his eyes to see his spouse there, sitting bravely.

"You scared me," Andy sighed. How did he scare Andy? Andy was the one who cried his name in the poor guy's little ears. Now his heart kept pounding too fast, and the breaths that would pant out at an expeditious pace gone more active.

Chucky tugged at the purple blanket covering his bared body. Purple….. It left a sharp taste in his mouth. "Sorry," he forced that speech off of his tongue. He wasn't sorry at all, but he made a deal to settle things with Andy more modestly from now on.

Andy brought his hand to Chucky's chest, he was hyperventilating. He's done that since last night. He should be asking if anything encircling them was a bother to the small guy but he figured it was just a way to deal with the frigid air. Andy shrugged it off and kissed Chucky's head. Chucky eluded away and whined in objection.

"Why am I naked?" He knew, he just wanted to see a bugged Barclay's face bloom with red. That didn't happen, instead, Andy passed him warm clothes he set on the couch before waking the previous doll up.

"Why do you think?" Andy rose up and walked away to the kitchen, possibly grabbing something to snack. Chucky looked at the clothes, Andy knew him very well. There was his favorite pair of sweatpants and a sweater set on his lap. They didn't match and in no way went together, but Chucky could fall asleep in them anytime and that's all he demanded.

His breathing didn't stop, and his chest started to ache. He felt satisfied, however, and didn't feel the need to force Andy to get anything else. Not even food spanned his mind as he made his way to the kitchen. It wouldn't hurt to get a little something from Andy, maybe another embrace. He always gave that, so he just sounded more ravenous.

Andy was sitting at the table eating cereal and checking his laptop. He must have fixed the service when Chucky was dreaming since he was already typing like mad on his reports for the new job he was hired for. With that said, he starts in a few days, Chucky wasn't thrilled with that but he was proud of Andy anyways. It was a much better job he teased to Andy every now and then. The real honest truth was Chucky could care less about what Andy could do. He would lie about the amount of money they would get would matter most so that Andy could spoil the hell out of the scantier boy, it wasn't that at all. Chucky didn't admit it though, he didn't need to. Andy could read him like a book now. He knows what the doll means and what he doesn't.

"Kristen texted me," Andy spoke once Chucky scaled his way to a chair across Andy. Chucky wasn't interested it seemed, but he really was. "Yeah?" He took the mug of black coffee Andy made for him while he was getting dressed. It tasted like he always admired it, and he felt himself purr from another act of thought from Andy.

"It was then my mom, next Jeeves, then so forth," Chucky hummed as Andy spoke. He wonders if Tiffany had the time to text him and ask how he was doing. His phone was dead and he was too sluggish to fix that. "Cool," Chucky huffed in and out through the cup.

Tiffany wasn't there yesterday to give goodbyes. He told her the arrangement on the line and she seemed more excited about it than Andy was. It was strange and yet humorous. Chucky didn't hide how he felt about it, it was Tiffany after all. She was doing the same giggle when she heard his amusement linger in his words when they discussed it further. Now would she even like to talk at all? Maybe something about this place will make Chucky change, then that will affect her perspective on him.

"Tiffany tried to call you," oh how ironic that came out to be. Chucky shrugged, "My phone is dead," he replied. Andy didn't respond. He understood that Chucky didn't want to _not_ talk to Tiffany, it was just his sloth act to not care about it. Andy wanted to bicker, but he held his place.

They sat there, drinking their coffee, Andy reading a news article about the day so far when his report was finished, while Chucky picked at his scars. "Stop that," Andy spoke again. Chucky stuck out his tongue like a kid and withdrew his fingers from his face.

"I wanna do something," Chucky panted out. Andy moved his attention from the computer to Chucky. "Oh, well that's actually surprising," he teased. Chucky made a face at him, "Haha very fucking funny," he sipped his coffee again, looking away.

"Well, even if we could, what would you wanna do, huh?" Andy studied Chucky's face. He was so lovable when he had to think. "Uh," Chucky was lost in his head. There wasn't anything to do.

"Hm," Andy's eyes locked back onto the computer. Chucky's attention was long gone as the man started typing again. He felt passionate about what it was he was writing about to not notice Chucky has moved from under the table onto his stiff lap.

"Hi," Andy said when he felt untidy hair under his chin.

"Hey fuckface," Chucky welcomed back. He was gonna stay there he thought. That is what they were gonna do that day, just be together. Nothing should replace that.

"By the way, I have to fix the plumbing later. I had to wash my hair and teeth with the kitchen sink, obviously, we have to change that," Andy massaged Chucky's back with a free hand, "We have to change that as soon as possible."

1:18 pm

The ginger gnarled at the dirty floor underneath his bare feet once he entered the bathroom. He didn't want to enter, no one said he needed to, but he made his way in anyways. Everything seemed to be working again. It was a relief to both of them.

"How's that?" Andy poked Chucky's stomach as he got up. Chucky slapped his hand. "Don't," his voice was rasped. He shouldn't be in here, but he forced his way in. He didn't make it seem he was disturbed by whatever from the bathroom. The two of them know better. Andy almost scowled back.

"It's fine," Chucky finally said, his deep breaths breaking down. He marched away back to the now warm spots of the cabin. He really should be acknowledging his boy for fixing the heat, but it wasn't gonna come out the way he would like it. He was far too sore to be grateful. Andy didn't stop him like he wanted, he wanted the man to draw him back and start treating him like it was last time they were gonna be touching. Being a newlywed messed with his intellect and it's craving that he quailed when he was walking away.

Chucky didn't risk to come back up after that, Andy was nothing but an annoyance. But, he was Chucky's annoyance. He was so annoying that Chucky's sweater suddenly got too stuffy and his legs were shaky. "Fuck you, Barclay…" he crashed his head into the armrest of the couch.

This was real, they had espoused. There is actually a golden ring around his small finger. The two of them could do whatever they wanted together and to each other. Chucky scuffled with the couch as his way to fight every strange sensation in the way.

"I love him..." Chucky said once his face met with the armrest again.


	3. Never Really Moved

9:13 pm

 _There is something out there, something intimidating you with an internal passage to spear through your brain._

 _It's gonna destroy you and your beloved. Hold your position and become a defense against the monster that prowls. The night - don't sleep during the night. Let him sleep, but you need to continue to stay alert._

 _Make sure it knows not to mess with you or him._

It happened to be this time to get rather shaken from the new home of theirs. Just when they got there. Already it's been three days and he now feels wrong for not enjoying whatever there was he missed. He's been in this cabin before, so somethings definitely weren't new and it still felt a bit like home because of that. But, sadly it didn't one-hundred percent. He feels guilty that this is what he feels. He'd go to Lakeshore immediately if given the opportunity, that opportunity containing an agreeing lover who would go with him back. He knows Andy feels the same in a sense, but what Chucky had was different than any homesickness. In a way, he literally was homesick.

He did indeed feel sick of their home, now being the cabin. He feels sick being inside. He is also sick of whatever is outside.

He looked at each bark of each tree. He spotted bushes rustling and small clouds of dusty snow flying off the ground. He jumped whenever he saw light movement caught from the corners of his eyes. His heart spazzed each time, his breathing with a shut mouth still rapidly escaping from his lungs. He felt cold but within he was starting to boil from his jumpiness. Everything was gonna scare him he knew.

The bed dropped, so did Chucky's heart. He jumped but quickly relaxed when he heard the familiar sigh reach his ears. Pierced eyes widen at the window as the taller man, who was weary from the work done to their home, brushed his doll's scarred and freckled neck with his fingers. Chucky remained focused on the outdoor view to the woods, memorizing every spot that could be a hidden place for whatever that comes to haunt the pair. It was just him being agitated, it wasn't a big deal he told himself. He liked the night, that was that. Still, if there is anything out there, it wouldn't hurt the two. Andy had many guns and Chucky, dangerous weapons.

The ginger felt himself break open his mouth when Andy was done caressing the sweet spots of his neck. He almost whined, but being awake enough he stopped the pathetic response from the removal of gentle loving fingers. He was tired of the outside now, instead whatever was credited as interesting was inside, right next to him. So he rested on his silky pillow, not moving the blankets towards his chin. He turned and looked at his boy as he set the timer early during sunup. Andy didn't have a ways away to drive for work. It still was too much for the toy to manage, the further away Andy is the more the danger Chucky couldn't stop. He couldn't be there to guard him.

"Andy…" Chucky grasped onto Andy's shirt with a miniature hand before Andy took it off. Chucky had let go once Andy dropped from his shoulders. The man then flung it to the side to pick up in the morning. Now, he was too worn.

"Yes?" The man let himself down onto the mattress, head deeply sunk into his own cushion. His eyes were already sealed once the blankets covered up to his bare chest. The doll didn't answer right away.

Andy's head shifts to look at his husband. No words came out of his or Chucky's mouth. Chucky's breathing landed onto Andy's skin, but Andy didn't think anything of it. The doll's breath was warm anyway.

"If you need to tell me something, you should do it now," he turned his body to Chucky, who had a troubled gaze. Something was bothersome for him, but not as much as other things could be. Chucky has been bothered greatly by whatever before and had his bratty outbursts, that's when something was really troubling him with annoyance. Now it was something very little. Andy guessed at this moment. Or maybe, just maybe, it was a major issue.

Chucky stayed silent a moment longer, almost losing Andy.

"Something out there-" that brought Andy's awareness back.

"Huh?"

"I thought I heard something out there," He cleared his dry throat.

Andy pulled Chucky a little closer. He couldn't leave him here like this while himself slept. "It's probably an animal, a small one maybe." He snuck a kiss on Chucky's bruised eye.

"I'll shoot it for you if it's big."

"I already called dibs on killing it though," Chucky smiled, his tooth looking more pronounced as it escaped his mouth.

Andy laughed and kissed him once more.

* * *

 _"Try to sleep, you really do need it," his younger friend Eddie spoke once he_ leads _his way from Charles' bed to the window. It was nice to have someone's support, even if he thought Eddie didn't want to give it. No one really wanted to be in the same room with him._

" _I can't," Charles let out a harsh sigh, "I can't ever." His friend's eyes met his as one foot already made its way out. Eddie was late he knew-way past his curfew. He didn't try to remind himself of the consequence that would come with keeping Eddie here much longer. It was enough to hurt him from his own selfishness._

" _Why not?" Eddie did know. The one thing Eddie knew how to deal with these situations was talk out of them. He was good at this, he was good at bailing him and his friend out. He was good with talking. Now, he was gonna talk through Charles._

" _I just…. can't," a bunch of the teen's hair slipped and hid his face._

" _Can't you at least try?" Eddie was impatient when he let his whole leg slip outside, Charles could hear his shoe knock on the side of the house a bit. He shouldn't be keeping Eddie here much longer., there was no one else though, no one at all. He couldn't vent to anyone else. He couldn't talk about whatever and understand. No one was patient with him. Eddie wasn't now, but he usually holds his loyalty._

" _Tomorrow is Friday, after school, we could talk some more." And with that, Eddie was gone. Charles was gonna scream. He held it down his throat and instead let a bowl he left out for days on his bed crash onto the floor. It didn't break completely, but it cracked a little. It was unsatisfying, just like Eddie. It was better than nothing._

 _He sat there with the same disgusting voices flying across the space of his brain. They wanted him to kill some more. Do more damage. Satisfy his hunger._

 _He was gonna do it tomorrow night with Eddie. He was gonna show his best friend his hobby. His way to relax._

5:00 am

Andy was awake before the alarm went off. He relieved himself for a second. Chucky had times when he would wake from the alarm and complain as he forced himself out of bed, blaming Andy for ruining his sleep. Andy turned it off.

He stretched off the bed and into the new work clothes he put out just last night. He had to freshen himself up some more, then he could let himself go into his truck.

He remembered he had to eat. He wouldn't eat anything special, maybe just an apple and some milk. He was all too eager to get to work. The warm aura around him seemed to push him forward into an unusual good mood when he had to get his morning routine finished.

He gives Chucky kisses sometimes, gentle kisses. They never woke the toy up. Now he can't go on to have a great a day if he doesn't do so.

Although it was rather peaceful while the sun set behind the trees and the noise from his lover spewing out foolish debates were nowhere a bug, he didn't know if it was the greatest idea to show his affection, especially knowing Chucky's state of mind currently.

Andy promised himself he would make up to Chucky when he came home, then brought himself out the door with a heavy jacket on. He drove away from the cabin. He remembered to lock the door on the inside before leaving so Chucky could get out and lock it again with his own spare key.

When Andy was miles away from their home now, the doll stirred and then woke from another hated flashback. He didn't know if this remembrance of a used-to-be good friend was any better or worse from the previous memory. He could have sworn he pushed those memories away years ago. Now, they came back again. He could cry right there into his pillow. He didn't. Instead, he got out his charged phone and entertained himself to forget everything again.

It worked, then he started his day without Andy. It was different than before they moved. Andy was so much closer, so it was better. Yet, there is more for Chucky here in the cabin then there was back in the city. More things to distract him and the short attention span happened to be shorter than usual today.

He wanted to read a book. Not strange at all is what he thought. He liked books, but the one he was more desiring to read was an older act. He wanted to read something he had to read back when he secretly did poetry. It took up his time back then.

So Chucky went to his and Andy's laptop and searched up a Shakespearean play. He loved Shakespeare when he was a teenager. He was a stupid kid he would tell himself., but he was here now revisiting regretful secret desires. He read Romeo and Juliet.

8:03 am

"Andy could write better," he untruthfully scoffed. It wasn't an insult towards the famous work of literature, but an unheard compliment towards the man away from home. It was a simple praise he still wouldn't say to Andy if he was present. If he was arguing with a much more bragged friend of what they thought was an impressive lover, then he would say such a thing. He would say a lot of things about Andy. He could make a list. He sort of wanted to now that he thinks about it.

Instead, though, he listened to music on the radio while keeping himself busy with whatever activity he could do. He would draw then start texting Tiffany, who he knew was awake by now, about whatever he thought was hilarious (to himself anyways, he didn't know how Tiffany viewed this humor). Suddenly the screen from his phone got foggy. He was confused by this but immediately just thought it was the dry air from the winter messing with the warming system spreading its own heat across the house. He left whatever it was he was working on there on the table, then turned the radio off.

The breeze was small once he suddenly felt it. It was coming from a window, though very small when it blew him. Chucky was aware right away, it was within his nature. He became more animalistic and will keep going until he pretty much is totally. He even growled lowly behind his panting when he thought something may have gotten inside the house. Even if it was a small insect he would throw a fit to himself.

He went up to the window and shut it all the way. Whatever may be inside now was gonna die, threat or not. He stopped and store out the window. It was everything white with very little contrasting colors. Whatever was left untouched by snow would be under their shelter and inside locked doors. This blank view of nothing but clear white made him ill.

He shouldn't go out there a small voice spoke inside his head to the thump of his gut. He always went with his mind and gut. He instead lied on the couch and closed his eyes. He would fall asleep eventually.


End file.
